The Fowl Code
by Paimpont
Summary: "How does one describe Artemis Fowl? Various psychiatrists have tried and failed." And that is why Artemis is finally brought to Dr. D. Will the doctor succeed where others have failed? What terrible secrets are the master criminal and his family hiding?


**~The Fowl Code~**

**...**

**Summary:** "How does one describe Artemis Fowl? Various psychiatrists have tried and failed." And that is why Artemis is finally brought to Dr. D. Will the doctor succeed where others have failed? What terrible secrets are the young master criminal and his family hiding?

**Rating:** T

**Warnings:** Mild non-explicit references to possible child abuse.

**Giftie: **Wynter Ravenheart, this one's for you! Thanks for the patient referral!

**Author's Note: **This story belongs to the same genre as my previous fics _The Serpent and the Mirror_ and _The Scarlet Line, _which chronicle some of Dr. D.'s earlier cases, but it can be read independently. The cipher in Artemis' diary in this story is the same one that occurs at the bottom of each page in the novel _Artemis Fowl._

...

**Chapter 1: **

_From the Files of Dr. D._

_The Case of Artemis F._

_Week 1_

_..._

"Dr. D., you are our last hope." The school teacher who sat in front of me this morning was young, passionate about her job, and quite pretty. She had come to consult me about one of her young charges, a fourteen year old boy by the curious name of Artemis Fowl.

The teacher had sent young Artemis Fowl to the school counselor, who in turn had referred Artemis to a psychiatrist, who had sent him on to a psychoanalyst. Curiously, the counselor, the psychiatrist and the analyst had all suffered nervous breakdowns after seeing Master Fowl, and the school principal and most of the teachers had agreed that they might as well just leave the little rogue alone at this point. After all, Artemis' own mother did not seem at all concerned about him, and although the boy was clearly somewhat disturbed, he did not seem to have any violent tendencies. Better just leave him to his own devices, and try not to think about what they might be...

But the young and idealistic Miss O'Grady refused to give up. She was convinced that there was something seriously wrong with the boy, and she had pestered the principal and Mrs. Fowl until they had sighed, signed the appropriate forms, and agreed to send Artemis to me.

The files that had been forwarded to me were really quite disturbing. The boy had tried his hand at crime, and had apparently shown himself to be quite talented in that area. True, the authorities could only prove his involvement in a few minor misdemeanors, but there were strong suspicions of more serious criminal activity on his part as well.

But young Master Fowl was clearly no ordinary delinquent. The boy was brilliant, and his IQ scores made me rub my eyes. They _were_ within recorded human range, but only barely. Were his troubles in school simply the usual adjustment problems of a profoundly gifted child? Not according to Miss O'Grady.

For in addition to breaking the rules (and possibly the law) at times, Artemis appeared to be suffering from hallucinations of the most fantastic kind. Miss O'Grady, who unblushingly confessed to searching through Artemis' backpack and locker out of concern for the boy, had found a diary filled with detailed records of the most extraordinary delusions. When confronted with the contents of his journal, Artemis had merely laughed and claimed that he was writing creative fiction, but Miss O'Grady did not believe him. Strange phrases she had occasionally heard the boy mutter to himself recurred in the wild tales recorded in his journal.

"He is losing touch with reality, Dr. D.," she sighed. "I fear that he is descending into madness. He seems to believe that we are surrounded by invisible fairies."

She produced a tattered leather-bound book. "Please read this for yourself."

I leafed quickly through the volume she offered me. Interesting! It seemed to be a dramatic tale of crime and gold and fairies, written out in an elegant hand. The bottom of each page was adorned with enigmatic symbols. A secret code of his own making?

I put the book aside for the moment. "Miss O'Grady, before you leave I would like to hear more from you about Artemis and his family, if you don't mind."

"Of course." She sighed. "I have known Artemis for two years now, since he was twelve. He is an extraordinary child in so many ways. He is very beautiful, of course, with his raven hair and his dark blue eyes. He has the kind of beauty my grandmother always said was a sign of a changeling. A fairy child exchanged for a human..."

She smiled a little. "I thought of that, I must admit, when I read his tale of fairies in his diary. Silly, isn't it? Anyway, he is handsome, from an old and aristocratic family, and very, very intelligent. He is named after his father, Artemis Fowl Senior, who disappeared years ago. His father was something of a criminal, people say, although nothing was ever proven. But one day, Artemis Fowl the Elder simply vanished, leaving his wife and son behind in a dilapidated manor house. Mrs. Fowl was never quite right after her husband's disappearance, and she is rarely involved in her son's life. Half the time, she doesn't even seem to know who he is. It must be terrible for Artemis, of course, to lose _both_ parents, so to speak. But there is a servant living at the house, a man named Butler, who looks after Artemis."

"Butler the butler?" I raised an eyebrow. That seemed a little odd?

The charming Miss O'Grady smiled. "Yes - that _is _apparently his real name. He is a large, rather intimidating man, but Artemis seems very attached to him. He is the one who brings the boy wherever he needs to go. And Butler's sister, Juliet, lives with them as well; she is a kind of maid, I believe."

"I see." I made some notes in my files and thanked the sweet young teacher.

After she left my office, I had an hour or two before the butler Butler would bring Artemis to see me, so I decided to take a closer look at Artemis' diary.

My goodness, what a story! Mad or not, the Irish _do_ know how to tell a tale! I am summarizing the main points of his fantastic narrative in this file, for his wondrous tales may very well turn out to reveal something very significant about the poor child's mental state.

_Artemis Fowl, child genius, discovers that the fairies are real, and he travels with Butler to Ho Chi Minh City. There, he finds an old fairy, ruined by drink, and he is able to copy her ancient manual of fairy lore, the secret Book of the People, composed in ancient Gnommish. He succeeds in deciphering the ancient script and learns the secrets of fairies and their magic. Artemis intercepts a fairy, Captain Holly Short of the Lower Elements Police Recon (Leprechaun) unit, and he holds her ransom for gold in Fowl manor. _

Ho Chi Minh City? An Irish fairy in _Ho Chi Minh city_? That's... unusual? There must be some deeper significance to this. Perhaps the very name of the place where he first encounters the fairy and the book is symbolic; for even though Ho Chi Minh City is named after the real-world politician Ho Chi Minh, I seem to recall that his name means "Spirit of Enlightenment" in Vietnamese. Perhaps the city simply represents Artemis' own quest for knowledge. What sort of knowledge, I wonder? Self-realization?

Examples of the so-called "Gnommish script" adorned the bottom of each page in the boy's journal. I bent eagerly over the pages of Artemis' diary, peering at the unfamiliar characters around the edge. One sign was shaped like an eye, another like a leaf, a third like an acorn... I chuckled to myself. I have always been rather fond of codes and ciphers. Let's see what kind of code the boy genius has invented!

_What?_

I must confess that a terrible disappointment washed over me as I studied the delicate signs. A boy genius, with an IQ well above 200 according to the rather incoherent report from his school counselor, fills page after page of his diary with text in code - _and he uses a simple substitution cipher? _I had expected something better, a sophisticated Vigenère cipher at the very least. But a substitution cipher, where one sign of the cipher text corresponds to one letter in English? Seriously? Why, a small child, armed with the knowledge that _e_ is the most frequently occurring letter in English, followed by _t, a,_ and _o_, could solve his code in half an hour. It took me less than four minutes. _What kind of secret code was that?_

And the text the code revealed was sheer nonsense:

"The prophecies of Ohm, phlegm pot cleaner, to Frond, elfen king. I am Ohm, phlegm pot cleaner to the king, but I am much more than that for I see the future written in the phlegm... I saw an age when the People have been driven underground by the Mud Men... In this time one shall come among us, Fowl by name and foul by nature, a mud man unlike any other. He shall learn our secrets and use them against us. I see him now as plain as day. His face is pale; he has dark eyes and raven hair..." And so on and so forth, ad nauseam and infinitum.

_Phlegm pot cleaner to the king?_

I looked at the leather-bound journal with some suspicion. Was that child pulling my leg?

Then suddenly it struck me: Perhaps the funny little symbols at the bottom of the page are not the real code. The so-called "code" is a mere distraction; the _real_ cipher is in the words of the story itself, in the tale of Artemis and the fairies. _That_ is where he hides he real secrets. He has spun a magnificent tale of fairies and gold, but perhaps the truth about the boy is hiding somewhere in that tale, encoded in his story...

As an analyst, it is _my _job to decipher the strange symbols of his tale and interpret the message the child's subconscious is sending about the real nature of his troubles.

I leaned over the journal again. What to make of these strange elements in his story?

_Ohm_, the phlegm pot cleaner, indeed! Interesting name, Ohm. The unfortunate pot cleaner is named after _Ohm, _the scientific _unit of resistance_, one assumes? What is it, I wonder, that this Ohm is resisting? Cleaning the phlegm pots? Can't blame him for that...

_Phlegm... _Why phlegm? In ancient Greek medicine, phlegm was one of the four humors, one of the basic substances of the human body. Phlegm was associated with winter, with the element of water, and with the brain...But why does phlegm appear to have some mystical properties in the coded message that runs at the bottom of each page in Artemis' diary? Phlegm is used to foretell the future?How very odd! Why phlegm? Is it a symbol, I wonder, of another, more forbidden bodily fluid - _semen, _seen through the uncomprehending eyes of a child? And if so, what does it mean that the secret message is narrated by someone forced to do unpleasant tasks for a powerful kind? There is something rather disturbing about this.

The ancient Greeks associated phlegm with water... Wasn't there more about water somewhere in Artemis' story? I leafed through his diary. Oh, yes, here we go, a quote from The Book of the fairy people: "...where full moon, ancient oak and twisted water meet...". _Twisted water? _Why would the water (and the phlegm?) be _twisted? _Water. Semen. Twisted.

The fairies refer to Artemis as a "Mud Man". Mud. Dirt. As if he is somehow _dirtied, _sullied by something. But what, I wonder?

I read on.

_Artemis kidnaps the fairy Holly and keeps her prisoner in Fowl Manor. The other fairies can't rescue her, since fairies can't enter a human dwelling without permission. Dwarves can, however, and the criminal dwarf Mulch Diggums tunnels in under the Manor. He is able to find the safe that contains the secret Book_ _of the fairies. Holly manages to crack through the concrete floor of her cell and access earth so she can use an acorn she has smuggled in to complete the Ritual all fairies need to do to replenish their power. By means of her magic, she is able to escape. Artemis negotiates with the dwarves: He will release Holly in return for gold. She must also grant him a wish, and he asks for his mother's health to be restored. Angeline Fowl is delusional; she also fears light. Holly does grant Artemis' wish, and his mother's sanity is restored in return for half the gold. The fairies try to kill Artemis so he can never reveal their secrets; they send in a "blue rinse", a bomb that will exterminate all life. But Artemis escapes by drugging himself and his associates with sleeping pills so they can escape time._

I shook my head. I didn't like the sounds of this at all. Someone or something is hidden at Fowl manor, imprisoned within its ancient walls. And Angeline, Artemis' mother, fears the light... Why does she fear the light? Are _her _delusions caused, I wonder, by something that she is afraid will come to light? Some terrible secret the Fowls are hiding? And Artemis can only escape by _drugging _himself? Perhaps a signal that he is resorting to some sort of substance abuse to deal with his problems? I wonder how thoroughly they searched his school locker...

Who or what does Holly Short represent? The diary describes her as _short_, barely three feet high. A child, perhaps? Does she represent Artemis himself, his younger self? If so, what does it mean that she is held captive in Fowl Manor, deprived of her magic? She can't be rescued by her comrades, since they are not permitted to enter a human dwelling... Does the incarcerated magical being somehow represent Artemis himself, trapped inside that grand and dilapidated mansion, where no one is permitted to enter?

But someone enters anyway, the rogue dwarf Mulch Diggums who literally eats his way into the impenetrable castle. And he discovers the existence of the magical Book, hidden in a safe...

I wonder what all of this means?

...

The enigmatic Master Fowl arrived for his appointment at noon, accompanied by the looming and silent Butler. I asked the manservant to stay in the waiting room during the appointment, and he nodded curtly. My affable secretary, Miss M., immediately attempted to engage him in conversation about the weather, but the gruff Mr. Butler did not seem particularly inclined to talk. But I know that Miss M. can work magic with the clients' friends and families; I had no doubt that by the time young Artemis was done with his appointment, she would have Butler singing like a starling out there in the waiting room.

I led the boy into my office. He sat down at the edge of one of the chairs, and I regarded him with some interest. Miss O'Grady had been right; he really was a most extraordinarily beautiful child. His eyes were a deep, almost otherworldly blue, and thick raven locks framed a delicate elfin face. Somehow, I had not expected a child genius with a history of misdemeanors to look quite so... _vulnerable. _

"So, Master Artemis..." I leaned forward. "I read your journal. Interesting tales, my young friend. _Fairies?_"

Artemis smiled then. He tugged, almost shyly, at his black hair. "Oh, that. Those were just stories I wrote, doctor. Of course I know perfectly well that fairies aren't real. I just felt... unhappy... and it helped to make up stories about a different reality."

I looked at him intently. "Why are you unhappy, Artemis?"

He swallowed. "Oh... It's not always easy, you see, with my father gone, and my mother... Well, her mental condition is rather fragile at times, you see. Mother loves me a great deal, but ever since Father left, she has been... broken. Shattered. Sometimes she doesn't even remember who I am. She lives in her own world most of the time. Butler takes good care of me, of course, and so does his sister Juliet, but I can't help dreaming of ways to bring mother back, out of the shadows that always seem to linger in her mind. Writing stories about magic makes me feel better. I know that no miracles can bring Mother back to me, but that can't stop me from dreaming about them."

A tear quivered in his long-dark eyelashes, and he wiped it quickly away with his sleeve. Artemis smiled up at me, though his glance was still moist. "I understand Miss O'Grady's concern, and I appreciate it more than she could imagine, but there really isn't very much anyone can do for me, doctor. I got into some silly trouble at school, but I was just acting out my frustrations a bit. It was rather childish. I have learned my lesson and will try and behave better in the future. And the story I wrote in my journal was just a story. I have always loved stories, doctor. Ever since I was little. Reading them, hearing them, writing them. They say that we Irish are natural storytellers. If the world is too painful to deal with, we seek refuge in our stories..."

I found myself smiling and nodding at the child in sympathy. And if I had been a younger and less experienced man, I would probably have slammed my notepad shut at that point and declared that nothing at all ailed the charming young Master Fowl; he was simply cursed with a dysfunctional family, a little too much intelligence for our British school system to handle, and a rich imagination.

But I didn't close my file. I'm an old man, and I have seen more of life that most. And something about the stories recorded in Artemis' diary had made me deeply uneasy.

"Artemis," I said softly. "Sometimes stories can be more than a refuge. Sometimes they are a cry for help."

He glanced up at me, a sudden look of panic in his dark blue eyes.

"Sometimes," I said gently, "we need someone to dig into those stories, much like Mulch Diggums burrowed his way into the impenetrable Fowl Castle."

Artemis smiled ever so slightly at that, and I suspected that he was mentally comparing me to the rogue dwarf. But I could also see that his slight figure was shivering now, as if he was frightened of something.

"Come now," I said soothingly. "I think I already know what your story is really about, Artemis. But I need _you_ to tell me. I need you to be brave. Tell me about your father, Artemis. Tell me about the Book."

...

An hour later, I had managed to drag the whole story out of him. As I had suspected after reading the journal, it was a tale of abuse. Artemis' father had done things to him no father ever should. I found myself almost trembling with rage as I listened to the story the poor boy told. Artemis suspected that his mother knew of his father's actions, but she escaped into her own dark world, perhaps to avoid facing the terrible truth about what was happening at Fowl Manor. His father's disappearance had come as a relief to Artemis, although he still missed his father; he had loved his abuser in spite of everything. And one day, after his father had left, Artemis had found the Book. It was kept locked away in a safe in Fowl Manor, but Artemis had always had a talent for opening locks, so he had broken the safe open out of curiosity. At first, he thought it was merely a rare ancient volume, but when he opened it, he realized that it was not what it appeared to be. The book itself was centuries old, but some of the entries were quite recent. The book was, in short, the journal kept by Artemis Fowl the Elder, and his father and grandfather before him, chronicling years of crime. There were confessions of thefts and murder, but there were also gruesome descriptions of abuse, both of Artemis himself, and of other children. It was difficult for Artemis to speak of all of this, but my gentle questions finally succeeded in unraveling the whole tragic tale.

"Where is this book now?" I asked. Surely, this horrific record belongs in the hands of the police. So far, the elusive Artemis Fowl the Elder has not been found, but I have little doubt that the police would put a great deal more effort into finding him if they could read these terrible confessions.

Artemis dried his eyes on his sleeve again. "I... I don't know..." he whispered. "My mother... She came into the room when I was reading the book, and she snatched it from my hands. I have tried to find it again; I have searched everywhere in Fowl Manor for it, but I don't know where it could be. She was quite angry with me when I asked for it. She said... She said she promised to keep it safe for my father..."

"Oh, God," I muttered. I closed my eyes and pondered for a moment. "Artemis, we _have_ to find that book. Someone needs to stop your father. The book is extremely valuable evidence. There _must_ be a way to find it, if it's still at Fowl Manor. You mother promised to keep it safe, you say?" I opened my eyes again. "Now, I have an idea..."

...

That evening, a dark shadow was lurking behind the dense shrubs that surrounded the magnificently dilapidated Fowl Manor. And I'm afraid it was me.

Now, I don't usually travel to patients' homes, let along with the intention of committing burglary, but _something_ had to be done. And it wouldn't technically speaking be burglary, I suppose. Much like the fairies from Artemis' story, I am very reluctant to enter a dwelling uninvited. That's why I had devised a plan to make Adeline Fowl bring the book out to _me_.

The silent Butler had driven me to the gates of Fowl Manor, and then he and Master Artemis had disappeared for the evening. Artemis had agreed to come to my office again the next day, although he was quite doubtful when I assured him that I would have the terrible Book of the Fowls with me. I was to give him the book, and then we would call the police together. The boy himself was too frightened to participate in my dastardly scheme.

I drew a deep breath and looked up at the moon-washed manor house that loomed before me in the dark. I could see the outline of a delicate female silhouette against one of the lit windows. _Angeline Fowl! _With a trembling hand, I reached for the small device I had brought with me. It would make a loud crack and a lot of smoke, but it wouldn't actually start a fire. It should, however, create enough of an illusion of a firebomb that the unfortunate lady I could see in the window would wish to vacate the premises, perhaps bringing along any valuables she wished to safeguard...

I flung the small device at the window with all my might.

CRASH.

Oh, beautiful shot! It smashed through the window, sending shards of broken glass flying. The next instant, thick grey smoke billowed from the broken window, and a piercing scream rent the stillness of the night air.

I held my breath, waiting.

_And there she was!_ She came running out of the gates, a delicate, ghostly figure dressed in a flowing white robe, an ancient book clutched to her chest. If I didn't know better, I could have guessed that the lovely lady was merely holding a favorite book she had been reading before bed, perhaps some beloved childhood fairy tales. The plan had worked!

I nodded to myself behind the bushes as I got ready to leap out and wrestle the book from her. _That, _I thought grimly, _is no book of fairy tales. _

No book of fairy tales… _Or was it?_

I was about to dash out from my hiding place when a sudden, terrible thought struck me: _What is this was all a fairy tale? __What if Artemis is lying?_

_A fairy tale?_ I could feel my head spinning. What if the dark, imposing building behind the secure gates _wasn't Fowl Manor?_ After all, I had no evidence that it was… Butler had dropped me off here, but I hadn't even thought to look it up on the map.

What if the lady in white _wasn't_ Angeline Fowl? What is she was someone else entirely? And what if the volume she was clinging to was _not _the dreaded secret history of the Fowls, but simply an old and extremely valuable book?

I swore softly to myself as I realized that I had been taken in. I had been about to walk into a trap, carefully devised by a young master criminal. I had been about to commit a crime, to rob a stranger of a rare and expensive heirloom and hand it over to a fourteen year old boy. And the worst part was that if I had been caught red-handed with the old book in my hands, nobody would have believed my wild story. If I had succeeded in taking off with the volume, a rare book of what must be of some considerable value would have been his, and if I had failed, nobody would be able to pin the crime on _him. _Ingenious! I had been fooled by a fairy tale, a load of _blarney, _told by a silver-tongued Irishman.

I crept back to the road under the cover of darkness, leaving the unfortunate lady whose evening I had disturbed to wait for the fire department.

I was still cursing as I took the bus home, but after a while, I had to chuckle a little as well. What a fool I had been! Ah, well, _nobody_ tells stories like the Irish!

…

"Were you able to get it, doctor?" Artemis' soulful dark blue eyes looked at me with apprehension as he came to my office the next morning. "Were you able to retrieve - _the Book?_" His voice trembled.

I shook my head. "I did not get the book, no. You see, I think Lady Muskerry would prefer to keep her extremely rare illuminated _Book of Ulster__. _It's been in her family since the tenth century._"_ I gave him a rather severe glance over the top of my glasses.

"Oh."

Artemis sat in silence for a moment. Then the apprehensive look on his face was replaced by a broad grin. The was a twinkle in his impossibly blue eyes. "Oh, well. It was worth a shot, wasn't it? Most other people would have fallen for my story, you know. In fact, a few of them did, in the past."

I wasn't going to tell him precisely how close I had come to falling for it myself, so I merely shrugged. "There was no abuse, was there?" I said softly. "All those symbols in your diary that led me to think that there had been were carefully planted to make me _think_ that there had been... It was all a part of your plan to get your hands on the Book of Ulster, wasn't it?"

"I think," said Artemis solemnly, "that we could work with each other, you and I. Perhaps you are someone I could open up to, doctor."

I studied him for a while. What a beautiful child he was, with his raven hair and intense blue eyes! The expression on his angelic face was grave now, sincere… I wonder if I should trust that sincerity? Perhaps not.

I sighed. "All right, master Artemis. Let's start over again from the beginning, shall we? Truthfully this time."

He nodded serenely. "Yes, of course, doctor. Truthfully…" He reached into his backpack and pulled up a different diary. "Here you go, doctor. The story of my life. Volume two..."


End file.
